


Decorate Him With Red

by tarahptrell



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-30 00:09:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1011688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarahptrell/pseuds/tarahptrell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and the Master were finally together. Finally happy. But the Master could never truly escape the drums and the consequences were grim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decorate Him With Red

It was late.

Very late.

I was curled up in the corner of my room, covering my head with my arms having just recovered from a violent outburst.

And I then felt so strange.

So calm.

So collected.

So… /different/.

I paused, slowly looked up, my expression blank, and stared into the darkness of my room.

"I have to kill the Doctor," I told the darkness as if it were my best friend, with a sort of innocence to my tone.

I stood from my spot and slipped out of my room, heading straight for the medbay. I had to finally end the Doctor’s pitiful existence. After all, it was the least he deserved.

I wanted him to be awake when I killed him. I wanted to watch him die and I wanted him to be consciously aware of the fact that /I/ was the reason he would die.

I arrived in no time at the medbay, quickly finding a bottle of chloroform and wetting a rag with it. I didn’t want him making too much of a fuss when I moved him somewhere.

Just as quickly, I made my way to his room. I opened the door slowly and paused at the foot of his bed, looking him over fondly. I watched him sleep soundly for a moment, a grin tugging at my lips, before stepping up to him, leaning over him, and crawling onto the bed slightly. Instantly I pressed the cloth to his face and held him down with the whole of my upper body.

Me shifting the bed and holding the cloth over his nose and mouth woke him almost immediately and his eyes widened in panic and alarm, and slight confusion. He let out a muffled cry and struggled under my grip on him, pounding furiously at my arms holding him, but I wouldn’t give. I watched as he slowly weakened, his strikes become more frantic, but also more weak and sloppy. I watched intently as his eyes slowly closed again.

I bent over and lifted his unconscious body over my shoulder before carrying him somewhere where I could make more of a mess. Since his TARDIS was too goody-goody to give me a proper torture chamber with good drainage, I decided I’d have to use the kitchen. I strapped him down on the large table in the middle of the spacious, tiled room, he dressed only in a pair of boxers and his sleep shirt.

I watched him again. Always watching. Watching as he slowly came to.

"K-Koschei what are you doi-?" He asked hesitantly, unsure whether to be terrified or not yet.

I interrupted him by bringing my hand hard across his face. His head jerked violently to the side and he then whipped his head around to glare at me.

He seemed to be lost for words. He felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Something was /really/ wrong here.

"Oh I’m sorry, love. Did that hurt?"

He didn’t satisfy my question with an answer, so I struck him again.

"How about that time?"

He pulled harshly at his bindings before glancing up at them and tilting his head curiously, as much as the table below him allowed.

I took his moment of distraction to slip out the knife I had concealed in my sleeve. When he looked back at me his eyes widened immediately.

"Kosch. Whatever you’re doing: Stop it. Stop this. Whatever you’re thinking, I can help you. Please just-"

"Oh shut /UP/!" I yelled at him, slashing the knife across his chest and watching as it tore through the fabric and began to bleed.

He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, fighting back the pain. So I attacked him again.

This time he arched forward, grunting. “Koschei. Please.”

I slashed him twice more. One for each word.

And each attack brought a cry out of him.

So I had to attack again.

And again.

And again.

And /again/.

One for every scream.

He was bleeding a lot now, coughing weakly, his eyes glazed over with tears overflowing in them. His face was already tear stained. I placed a hand over his chest and trailed it down his abdomen. He groaned in pain as I disrupted the various cuts that adorned his body.

My hand now thoroughly soaked in his blood, I brought it up to cup his cheeks, giving him a genuine Koschei-smile; the warmth spreading up to my eyes.

And the worst part about it was, for a moment, I saw in his eyes that he was relieved.

I would stop.

I would help him.

But my smile distorted into a menacing grin.

I watched the hope fade from his eyes and immediately replaced by the agony and fear as before.

The red was so beautiful.

I wanted to soak myself in it.

And so I did.

And I soaked him too.

Decorated him with red.

And I attacked him again.

And again.

And again.

And /again/.

One for every scream.

“Koschei /please/,” he sobbed, struggling futilely at his bindings.

His sobs only served to widen my smile.

I felt like I was watching in third person.

Watching as I killed my best friend.

Watching as I killed the love of my life.

Watching as I killed the only meaningful thing in my life.

Watching as I /murdered/ him.

"Who is Koschei?" I asked, almost cheerfully. "My name… is the Master."

The look he gave me would have broken my hearts. Anguish couldn’t even begin to explain the pain in his expression. And not just from his injuries.

I watched the life slowing fading from his eyes. Then a bright light caught my attention. I glanced down at his hand, where a few gold tendrils played at his fingers.

"Should I let you regenerate, love?" I asked him, tilting my head slightly. "Because then I could kill you again~."

Even though he was weak, mostly from blood loss, his eyes still widened, terror reflected in his chocolatey brown eyes. He shook his head slowly, a few mumbles falling from his lips, but not clear enough for me to understand properly.

So I brought the knife down again, slashing his throat quickly.

He make a wonderful series choking and gagging sounds as he slowly drowned in his own blood that was pooling into his throat.

"So sorry Theta my dear. I can’t let you get away this time," I told him sickeningly sweetly.

I brought my hands up over my head, gripping the dripping-red blade tightly in the both of them and brought it down hard on his primary heart.

He screeched, but it only came out as a strained gurgle.

He didn’t last long after that.

I pulled the knife out of his chest and immediately dropped it, staring horrified at the blood-soaked corpse in front of me. Almost as if coming out of a trance I took a hesitant step back and raked my hands through my hair, before realizing I had his blood all over my hands.

I stared at my crimson hands, tears welling in my eyes and falling freely down my cheeks.

I stumbled back to his corpse and collapsed over it, screaming out in agony.

I really was a monster.

I really was heartless.

"Theta!" I screamed in between sobs. "Theta forgive me!”

I stayed like that for a long time before somehow managing to drag myself away from him. My eyes darted to the blade that I had dropped before. I immediately scurried for it, nabbed it and, standing over his body, holding the knife with both hands, aimed it over my primary heart.

"Forgive me," I demanded as I brought the knife on myself.

I could hear it slice effortlessly through the fabric and flesh alike and immediately stumbled and fell backwards, collapsing on the crimson-stained tiles.

"Forgive me," I whispered as I felt myself slip into the darkness as well.


End file.
